Dedicated to a dear friend who reminds me that friendship becomes what you choose to build. We met as freshmen and lived our coming of age movie. We had experienced all the highs and joys. We had seen sides of each other that hurt and disappointed us. Still, we fought for the heart that brought us together in the first place. Our scars may not be heart-shaped, but they trace infinity. Thank you, my beloved big sister. May we carry them with us on our never-ending journey of growing up.
( I will call my dear friend Mary Ann from now on;) )
Almost five years ago I showed up to university in that phase where you just want to meet people and say yes to things. I skipped the dorms for an apartment, which made me even more eager to find my circle. Sorority recruitment was everywhere, and even though I wasn’t sure I fit the mold, I figured why not try. It felt more like social experimenting than destiny, but it was exciting at the time.
I remember standing at the first sorority in front of bright pink doors thinking, what did I sign up for? Then suddenly we’re inside, chants and faces everywhere, total movie-scene energy. Before I could gather myself, a tall brunette linked arms with me. I admitted I was nervous under my breath and she squeezed my hand and said, “smile and wave babe, you’re good.”
That girl was Mary Ann. Funny how the real sisterhood had nothing to do with the letters, because here we are still linked. We became inseparable after that, eventually given the titles of big/little sister. Somehow, we never really let those go too.
“smile and wave babe, you’re good.”
We met at that in-between age, right before your twenties fully arrive. When you’re chasing independence, questioning who you are, and realizing growing up feels heavier than you imagined. It’s the season of big dreams, bigger doubts, and learning yourself in real time.
We lived six doors down from each other, which felt like a gift any girl would wish for. Our days blurred together into shared routines and nightly recaps that made reality feel lighter. We collected memories, friends, and a little bit of chaos along the way. It felt like living inside a coming-of-age film where neither of us were the sidekick. We were both the main character in each other’s story. She was put together in the way I admired: driven, social, classy, graceful under pressure. I didn’t want to be her, I just felt lucky to be loved by her.
It felt like living inside a coming-of-age film where neither of us were the sidekick. We were both the main character in each other’s story.
I was the wild little sister, the one learning by trial and error. She let me stumble but never let me fall alone. When I cried, she held space. When it was time to move forward, she’d ask, “so where do we go from here?” Like big sisters do.
So what’s the catch? Just wait… ready…
Boys. Immaturity. Tough love. Accountability. Facing reality. Growing up.
We weren’t chasing the same boy, but she was in a relationship. I wasn’t jealous of her time, I was just paying attention. I wanted to see her happy more than anything. But slowly, those of us who loved her noticed small changes. The way she spoke about herself, her reactions, her spark. When someone you care about shifts like that, your heart naturally looks to what’s new in their world, and for her, it was her boyfriend. My worry came from love, even if it didn’t always land gently.
My concern slipped into big sister mode, and our conversations of love grew sour. I was trying to protect her in the only way I knew how. Then, life humbled me, I met a boy.
She was happy for me in that big sister way, and suddenly the roles felt reversed. The conversations she once guided me through were now mine to share. Still, I worried about her situation. I think most girls have lived this at least once. One friend is falling in love, another is hurting. How do you celebrate each other while still feeling seen?
One friend is falling in love, another is hurting. How do you celebrate each other while still feeling seen?
We didn’t fall into silence, just a quiet disconnect. She spoke from her experiences, and I spoke from hope. I believed the kind of love I had just found, existed for her too. Maybe she wasn’t ready to hear that? Our friends had grown wary of her relationship, while mine was still new and easy.
When she met the boy I was falling for, it didn’t land smoothly. I was frustrated watching her stay in something that hurt her. Looking back, we both see how we missed each other emotionally. It was messy and human. She felt unsupported. I felt she wasn’t happy for me. And when that boy became my then boyfriend, I made the choice girl code goes against. I chose the relationship.
Looking back, we both see how we missed each other emotionally. It was messy and human.
He showed me a healthy kind of love, the kind Mary Ann and I used to talk about late at night. I realized I didn’t want to carry worry into something that felt good. I just wanted to feel healthy and in love.
Almost a year passed where it wasn’t silence, but it wasn’t closeness either. Days would go by without a word. She was on and off with her boyfriend, and I was in love, changing, and learning too. A few months later we graduated. We celebrated, but it didn’t feel how we once pictured. She got her dream job and prepared to move away. Before she left, I asked her to dinner.
I blurted out “I miss you.” She answered, “I’ve missed you too.” She reached for my hand and we both cried right there in the restaurant. That was the moment we chose to grow up. From that night on, we started being honest. We took accountability the way real friendships require. She moved away, but we promised to work on us, and we did. My relationship wasn’t perfect either, and when I came to her confused or hurting, she met me with care, never with an “I told you so.”
We were learning how to support each other as the women we were becoming, not the girls we had been. We found our way back to late-night recaps, just now with city views and better wine. When she fell in love again, I came to visit her newfound love. We sat on her balcony crying, it was our “we made it moment”. When my heart broke, she got to me as soon as she could.
Friends grow up, just like you do. The question is whether you grow together. Like any relationship, romantic or platonic, the real test is whether your flame survives time. You won’t love every choice they make, their words may sting, and shared history doesn’t always make the present feel okay.
But isn’t that what growth is? I hope I’m not the same person I was at 14, 17, or even 20. Growing up isn’t gentle. In your twenties especially, you take a step forward and the next week you’re stumbling back. It’s already a lot to manage your own evolution, let alone hold space for someone else’s. Maybe it sounds selfish, but it’s human. Some of us process quietly, others out loud. Either way, it’s all a search for balance.
As much as we want to be heard, we also want to listen. Sharing our thoughts reminds us we’re not alone in them. Maybe that’s the real point of it all. That those we choose to share that capacity of ourselves with, are also the same people we want to grow up in front of too. Friends, lovers, belief systems, society…
That those we choose to share that capacity of ourselves with, also are the same people we want to grow up in front of too.
I leave you to continue to grow with everything you have. The friendships that are meant for you will meet you in the hard moments. May every little sister be lucky enough to have a Mary Ann in her life, someone who stays, even when growing up gets messy.
Until the next pour,
Bx
Entry Level Position- On Life? 
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